Snafu

by Chris Lowry

  One way would lead him back to the room with the Colonel and the other men.

  He wasn’t sure where the other would take him, but he could figure that out if he kept moving.

  Forward motion was progress, he thought.

  He had been in too much pain to process direction, so he picked one, trying to plan the layout in his head.

  The slick metal was cold in his hand as he turned the handle and stepped through the door.

  Hammer shook his head in surprise.

  The Colonel and the rest of the men moved a step back.

  The only person who didn’t react was the man in the chair.

  Archie held up one of the pistols to show the white haired Colonel.

  “Sorry about your men,” he said. “Now if you could just point me the way out.”

  The man in the chair chuckled.

  Archie glared at him.

  “You think this is funny?”

  “No,” the man shook his head. “I applaud your ingenuity.”

  “Save your fucking applause,” said Archie. “I’m getting out of here.”

  He raised a pistol toward the Colonel.

  “And you’re going to help.”

  It was the Colonel’s turn to smile.

  “Don’t do this Arch,” Hammer said.

  “You can come with me,” Archie said. “All of you. Except him. I don’t like him.”

  The man seated in the chair still didn’t move.

  “Arch,” said Hammer. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “I can get us out of here,” Archie said.

  “No,” said the Colonel. “The only way you can leave is my way. I’ll open the option back up to you for your…ingenuity.”

  Archie shook his head.

  “Die here, die there. I’ve got a third option.”

  “You don’t.”

  Archie lifted his pistol.

  “Don’t expect me to ask again.”

  “I don’t expect you to ask,” the Colonel answered. “I expect you to die.”

  A wasp stung the back of his neck near the base of his skull. Archie felt his muscles seize up and watched the pistol tumble from his lifeless fingers before darkness jumped up to claim him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Wake up gorgeous,” a voice intruded on the darkness.

  “Fuuh you,” Archie answered.

  Whatever the wasp had in its stinger, it was deadly. Every muscle ached, from the tip of his head to his little toe.

  Archie swore that even the hairs on his head hurt.

  “Oww,” he sat up.

  They were in an airplane hanger as large as a football field. It looked old and unused.

  He glanced the shadowed interior.

  Two double doors stood open on one end, admitting weak sunlight in a square on the floor. Plastic skylights were embedded in the ceiling every ten yards.

  They were covered with dust, dirt and detritus, casting weak light inside the cavernous space.

  Hammer reached out a hand to help Archie off a nest of greasy burlap bags scrunched up on the concrete floor.

  “Guess we’re going to do this,” Archie massaged the back of his sore neck. “What did they get me with?”

  “Taser,” Hammer nodded.

  “Thought those things were supposed to click and give you a warning.”

  Hammer shrugged.

  “Never been hit by one.”

  “It’s not high on my list of things to do again,” Archie answered as he looked at the other men. “Though I guess not much is on that list any more.”

  The dark haired man in the chair stood up and held out a hand.

  “Norman,” he introduced himself.

  “Archie,” the sore man answered and disentangled his hand as fast as he could.

  “That was some work you did back there,” Norman beamed.

  “Norman, I’m not going to lie. You creep me the fuck out.”

  Norman smiled even wider.

  “I get that more than you might imagine.”

  “Really? Cause I can imagine it a whole fucking lot. What kind of weird fuck are you, cause you ain’t Army weird.”

  “He’s another alphabet weird.”

  “Spook?”

  Norman nodded.

  “Operations,” he grinned. “Not analyst.”

  “And nobody noticed you in the field?”

  Norman shrugged.

  “My knowledge is specialized.”

  “See what I mean, Hammer. Creepy.”

  “Toi,” Hammer pointed to a tall man with pitch black hair. “He’s our specialist.”

  “We got a specialist and someone specialized. I feel I am in august company.”

  “He’s got a mouth on him, huh?” a voice snarled.

  Archie glanced at a man in faded fatigues gone from green to gray and hair so blonde it was almost white.

  “Got two fists to back it up,” Archie growled back.

  “Snow,” Hammer introduced the blonde. “And the last one is Boyd.”

  Archie nodded to the last man who sat hunkered on a wooden trunk as he watched the whole interchange.

  “What is this shit?” he asked.

  “Same as it ever was,” Snow shot back. “Just a different day.”

  “SS,DD,” Hammer agreed. “HELO packs in the cargo trunks. Orders are to put them on.”

  “For that?” Archie pointed to the Sea Otter plane that squatted in a corner of the vast hanger.

  “We’re going in off the coast of LA,” Hammer grunted as he moved boxes around.

  He planted one in front of each man and motioned them to open up by demonstrating with his hands first, then going into a box of his own.

  “We’ll never make it,” Archie observed.

  “Polly fucking sunshine,” Snow grumbled.

  “You got a problem with me?”

  “I got a problem with this whole damn thing,” Snow said. “But it looks like I ain’t got a say in the matter.”

  Archie glanced at the hanger doors.

  They were cracked open wide enough to admit two men standing abreast, though they could trundle almost all the way to either side to admit a plane.

  Or let one out.

  They appeared unguarded.

  “Everybody’s got a say,” Archie started marching toward the door.

  “That didn’t go so well for you last time Captain,” Hammer called after him.

  Archie froze.

  “Captain?” he glanced over his shoulder.

  “High Command gave you rank back to lead the mission.”

  Archie shook his head.

  “Tell them they can fucking keep it,” he snapped back into pace for the door.

  Just before he reached it, two men in battle fatigues swung inside the opening and blocked the path.

  One raised his rifle to the ready.

  “Stand back, Sir,” the other called.

  “That’s not a Taser,” Norman yelled across to him.

  “No shit.”

  “Yeah, they shoot you with that, it’s gonna hurt a hell of a lot more than a little tickle.”

  “You ever been shot with ten thousand volts before?” Archie tried to stare down the two guards.

  “Not even for practice,” Norman answered.

  “It’s damn sure more than a tickle.”

  “They’re posted at every exit, Captain,” Hammer explained. “This mission is critical.”

  “Then get someone who wants to do it,” Archie said.

  “That’s me,” Norman told him.

  “And me,” another voice added as a tiny man stepped through the small gap between the two guards.

  He wore a full body flight suit, a ball cap and aviator shades that hid half of his diminutive face.

  It took Archie a moment to realize the pilot he thought was a small man was in fact a woman.

  “That’s two volunteers,” he told Hammer. “What the hell do they need me for?”

  “It’s a six man missi
on.”

  “She’s not a man,” he jammed a thumb in the pilot’s direction as she sauntered past him and began a pre-flight check.

  “She’s not on the mission,” said Norman.

  He shrugged into the HALO suit, a modified flight suit fitted with an oversized pack that held the extra large parachute for the high altitude low open insertion.

  Boyd, Hammer, and the others followed his example.

  Archie watched the men get prepped for a moment.

  He glared over his shoulder at the two men still standing in the doorway.

  “Put it away,” he told the one with the rifle held ready. “You’re not getting lucky with me tonight.”

  Archie trudged back to the prep area and slammed the lid of his trunk open.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “You know I’ve never done this before,” said Boyd as he strapped into his gear.

  “None of us have,” said Hammer. “Except him.”

  He pointed to Norman.

  “China,” the spook answered to their questioning looks. “Twice.”

  “You fit in pretty well in China, do you?” Archie asked. “Easy to pass as a local.”

  Norman smiled but it didn’t touch his face.

  “They built two dozen ghost cities that needed exploring,” said Norman. “I’m pretty good at finding my way around.”

  “Did you set up a couple of these in those ghost cities?” Archie hefted one of the backpacks.

  Or tried to at least. It weighed over eighty pounds, so he couldn’t lift it with one hand.

  Instead, it was more like yanking the strap up to indicate to the rest of the men what he was talking about.

  Norman shrugged.

  “You never know when a well timed diversion can save your ass.”

  “Who did you piss off to get stuck with us?”

  The dark haired man shrugged again.

  “Everyone else stepped back,” he said.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Snow grumbled. “Nobody’s stepping back.”

  “He voluntold,” Hammer explained.

  “Like us, then,” said Snow. “Easy as fuck enough to just say that.”

  “I thought I did,” said Norman.

  He lifted one of the backpacks onto a low level dolly that Archie hadn’t seen.

  “We’ll strap up in the plane,” he said to Hammer.

  “This won’t be like other HALO’s,” the Sargent explained. “We’re going in hot and heavy, so we’ll open further up.”

  “Shit,” Archie grumbled.

  “Shit what?”

  “Makes us easy to target longer.”

  “Shit,” Snow agreed.

  “just for the record, I think this is a shit plan,” said Toi.

  “Since when has the Head Shed come up with anything better.”

  Hammer settled in his last strap and did a quick check on the rest of the squad. He yanked, adjusted, modified and double checked to make sure they were squared away and ready.

  “They tried throwing everything they had at it,” he explained.

  “Ain’t it fun being the last one picked for a dance,” Norman said as he loaded the other packs onto the dolly and hauled on the handle to roll it across the floor.

  He reached the bottom of the plane and transferred the packs in one by one.

  “Get a move on,” Hammer said.

  “I thought you were in charge of this shit show,” Snow smirked at Archie.

  Archie shrugged.

  “We’re all dead men walking, so does it really matter who tells us what direction?”

  “You’re getting philosophical in your twilight moments, Archie?” Hammer checked the magazine in his rifle.

  He was the only one carrying a weapon.

  “Figure what’s the point of spending my last few moments on earth dog tired,” said Archie.

  The twin engines on the plane whirred to life as the pilot completed her pre-flight inspection.

  “That’s the spirit!” Hammer screamed.

  He made a motion with his hand toward the waiting plane.

  “Who’s ready to die?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The inside of the plane was stripped of everything, including seats. The squad sat on the bare thin metal floor, with nothing between them and the cockpit but the back of two vinyl seats.

  The pilot donned a headset and finished her tower briefing.

  Archie watched her and glanced at the rest of the men in the plane.

  Norman nested in the proliferation of canvas bags he had loaded onto the plane, Toi and Boyd next to him.

  Hammer guarded the door.

  He was the last one on board, to make sure everyone was settled before he yanked it closed and twisted the simple bar to open it.

  When the men were secured inside, the doors to the hanger trundled open.

  The whine of the engines pitched louder as the pilot fed more power to the motors.

  “Alright,” Hammer yelled over the noise. “This is gonna be short and sweet. You all know why we’re here. The pilot is going to pop us out at nineteen thousand feet.”

  “I don’t know how to work this thing,” Snow screamed.

  “You don’t have to work it,” Hammer instructed. “They’re set to open on their own.”

  “How long are we going to be exposed to alien fire?”

  Hammer looked at Norman who nodded.

  “The pilot is going to create a distraction,” he shouted.

  “What kind of distraction?” Archie asked.

  “The kind that keeps eyes away from where we’re landing,” Hammer said.

  “We hit the LZ, secure transport and make our way to the target.”

  “Sounds fucking simple,” Boyd said.

  “Yeah, if it wasn’t for all the alien soldiers trying to blast our asses, it would be a walk in the park,” Snow sputtered.

  Archie wondered what type of distraction the pilot would make for them.

  Whatever they had planned, it would need to be loud, flashy.

  He watched through the front windows as the pilot lined up on the end of ribbon of dark runway.

  Red lights flickered into existence along either side of the long stretch of black asphalt.

  She jammed the throttle forward to feed maximum power to the engines and released the brakes with a short squeal as they fought for traction.

  The men in the back slid on the floor a little as the plane raced along the runway.

  Then they were up and the lights under them disappeared while the plane fought for altitude.

  They levelled off at a more controllable climb aimed at the stars and their designated altitude.

  “One hour,” Hammer held up a single finger.

  He leaned back against the wall beside the door and closed his eyes. Archie bet the man would be asleep in less than five minutes. Army training made it possible to sleep almost anywhere when they could.

  He didn’t want to spend one of his possible last hours on earth sleeping.

  He would rather spend it trying to find a way to make more hours on earth.

  “What do they have on you?” Archie scooted next to the pilot and tapped her on the shoulder.

  She blinked at him, green eyes awash in the glow from the cockpit dashboard lights. She lifted a thick finger and tapped the headset against her ear, then lifted the cup so she could hear.

  “What are they holding you hostage with to do this?” he repeated.

  “Nothing,” she shrugged. “I volunteered.”

  “To die?” he scoffed.

  “Everybody dies,” she said and the look on her face was too old for her features.

  “This isn’t going to work,” he waved at the back of the plane. “You think this is the only place the Lick’s have landed?”

  “Not my problem,” she said. “My problem is getting you to the LZ. I need to concentrate to do that.”

  “You could land somewhere else,” Archie leaned closer so he didn’t have to s
hout so loud. “This mission isn’t going to work, and we’re dying for nothing.”

  “I need to concentrate on flying,” she wouldn’t look at him. “Get back to your seat.”

  “There are no fucking seats in here!”

  “Then get back to the back,” she said.

  Archie glared at the controls.

  She moved one hand off the yoke, dropped it to her side and drew a pistol she pointed across her lap at him.

  “Nobody is hijacking my plane,” she growled.

  Archie held up both hands and scooted away.

  “What were you doing,” Snow grinned like a maniac. “You trying to hit that before we go?”

  “Not quite,” said Archie.

  “Man I would. That was my last wish in my cell, you know? Getting laid one more time.”

  “Sorry you couldn’t work that out,” Archie answered.

  Snow winked at him.

  “An hour is plenty of time,” he laughed. “You never know what’s going to happen. And if she says no to me, well, you’ve got a real pretty mouth.”

  Archie shifted away from the soldier and glared at Hammer.

  The man wasn’t asleep.

  He was watching Archie.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Archie felt the thin metal wall of the plane grow colder behind him as they climbed higher.

  It settled into his legs as they grew stiff and cramped from the weird sitting position required due to the cramped interior of the airplane.

  Jumping out wouldn’t make them any better he thought.

  At least he wasn’t alone.

  The other men grew quiet as discomfort settled in. They were used to it, of course.

  Hell, half of basic training was learning how to deal and manage being up to his neck in the shit. There was a pit of mud that rumor suggested lived up to the moniker.

  He wondered if he was the only one who didn’t feel like dying.

  Scratch that, he corrected himself.

  He meant who didn’t plan on dying.

  Because even though he couldn’t get the pilot on board with a diverted flight path didn’t mean he had to stop.

  Hammer held their assault plans close to his chest, but Archie had sat in on hundreds of war briefings.

  A solider with an eighty pound ruck, plus gear in an urban combat environment would be limited to ten klicks, fifteen at most.